Category Archives: stupid jokes

I feel confident in my ability to fight 3/4’s of an octopus

So, I’ve been a lazy lazy-bones for the past little while.  This is why God invented RSS feeds you can ignore until a person gets her act together and updates again, I guess?  Whatever!

I went for a long weekend to Ottawa with the lovely Miss Katherine, and in one drunken moment claimed that I could fight most of an octopus.  I think because eight legs is, like, two people?  Limbs-wise?  And two-on-one isn’t really fair, but maybe I could do slightly more than one-on-one, so I guess, like, I could fight all of one guy and another guy’s arms or something?  Which equals 3/4’s of an octopus?  Look, I was drunk.  Ernest Hemingway once said that you should actually do everything you claimed you would do while drunk, just to teach yourself to shut the hell up.  So on the advice of Hemingway, I guess I’ll be heading to MarineLand with my boxing gear and some octopus-grade handcuffs.

Do you guys want actually fightin’ news?  The other day was “get hit in the face” day, where you put in your mouth guard, put your hands up, and get hit in the face over and over for three minutes while practicing the elusive art of Not Blinking.  It’s funny to do because your partner keeps checking if you’re OK, so you keep assuring the guy that’s hitting you in the face that you’re cool while maintaining this unavoidably crazy Not Blinking game face.

I had karaoke shenanigans the other night!  It was my first time at karaoke, very exciting.  I sang Werewolves of London, because I am only interested in songs where I get to howl, apparently.  Also, I’m one of those “only knows the lyrics” people, so I don’t actually know the titles of, like, any songs, unless the title is in the chorus.  Lessons learned from karaoke: put you’re name down early.  I put mine down late and wound up waiting forever.  I would’ve sung more, but I was ready to leave by the time I finally got up.  So, learn from me, karaoke virgins.  Also, people misspell things, so don’t give up.  It may be under “Wherewolves of London” after all.

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Filed under fucking inanity, kickboxing, shenanigans, stupid jokes

Failed Experiments in Kendo

Last week I went with some kickboxing buddies to a kendo class to see how kendo works, as a possible summertime thing.  For a long time, I thought kendo and I could be pretty good friends, because it involves screaming and hitting things with sticks, and I am all over that like me on ice cream.  Unfortunately, it’s one of those super-ritualized martial arts, where you have to respect the art of the craft a whole bunch and bow every thirty seconds at something.  This is the kind of thing that drove me out of Shotokan Karate so many years ago; I really just want to hit things, now please?  Also, and more importantly, the stance is the opposite from kickboxing, so it’s right foot forward left foot back, which is so hard to get used to you have no idea.  It’s fun in the sense that I find almost everything new fun, but it doesn’t work with my schedule anyway, so I can’t really keep it up.

The other day I went out for ice cream at the fancy ice cream place, because what else to do on a sunny weekday?  On the way there, I walked past the place with the horses, and the horses were totally out, ripe for the patting!  Awesome!  I go ballistic with joy anytime I get to pat a cat on a sidewalk, so you can imagine me with access to a horse for three minutes.  Anyway, I got horse spit all over my hand, and then I got ice cream anyway, so if I die suddenly from some horse disease someone show this blog to the coroner, please.  Cause of death can be something like “Ice cream is worth more than sense.”

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Jane’s Fighting Ships

This is my favourite new title for a book.  And there are several dozen books called Jane’s Fighting Ships, so I’m a pretty happy person right now.  It really just has pictures of military ships, but the title is great.  I’ve started work at the MMA Library!  I like to imagine it’s actually a mixed martial arts library.  Really, it’s the Maritime Museum on the Atlantic Library, where I am spending a few weeks hauling and unpacking boxes after their renovations.  The boxes are all labelled MMA Library, and that excites me terribly.  Now I really want to start a library dedicated to cataloguing sweet, badass moves.  I think I would be uniquely qualified!

The job is fun!  I get to tour the museum for free, which proves that I will take the least logical route to touring a museum (I toured the Art Gallery for free when I did library work for them, too).  I also get the inside scoop on ghost stories!  I learned that I know, like, way more about maritime issues than I thought I did.  And now I know more!  Sweet~

Moving boxes and hunching over books is invigorating, but hard on the back.  I’ve been taking a few breaths to do Wheel Pose in the stacks when I start feeling too caved in.  A quick stretch during physical work it totally legit, but it occurred to me that Wheel is probably one of the stranger looking poses to be potentially caught in at work.

Kickboxing update!  I learned a sweet new kick on Tuesday.  It’s a jump-back kick, or something, I didn’t catch the name.  Basically you stand right in front of your opponent, touching him, then you leap back on your front leg and use that force to propel your back leg forward into a really hard kick.  It feels great to do, it’s fast, and it works from punching range.  It’s a little hard to control and definitely needs more practice, but I love it to bits.  I was doing a snap kick, which was easiest, but Ray was demonstrating that you can do it with anything up to and including spinning back kick.  I think I need to practice just leaping up and spinning all the way around with one leg before I try to add a kick on there.

Because of the ways we were kicking each other, I now have a perfect, round bruise on the top of my wrist, right where my watch sits.  Just thought you should know, because my bruises are my precious children.

After about a month of rain, I finally bought rain boots.  It has now stopped raining.  Ya’ll can send me whatever cookies you like.

I had a conversation a few days ago that made me laugh.  Jill and I were complaining about how, in Nova Scotia, it’s impossible to find a bottle of wine for under $9, even the stuff that’s on sale, and doesn’t that suck?  After a pause, Jill was, like, “This is a real ‘developed world’ problem, isn’t is?”  Anyway, that cracked me up, and I wanted to share it with all of you.  And now I have.  Bam!

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Filed under kickboxing, stupid jokes, work, yoga

Stick a fork in me, I’m done!

Oh man, oh man, the homework is finished, the classes are done, the exams don’t exist, my degree is finished!  All I need is to actually get handed the piece of paper in May, and I’ll be a big-person librarian.  I finished up my work on Wednesday.  Cut to me, on Thursday, completely lost and confused.  Seriously, it’s been so long since I didn’t have anything to do, I’m pretty sure I can’t function like that.  Apparently I need a job and nine million hobbies and parties to go to or I go batty, wandering around downtown, caressing bowls and produce.  Luckily, Friday had plenty of activities lined up!  I think two days of nothing to do would be the end of me.

Friday kickboxing was good times.  We worked on chest and abs, whoo!  I’m looking forward to being in some pain tomorrow.  For one exercise, you laid on your back with your legs straight up above you, and reached up to touch your toes.  Then you did a sit-up.  Then you touched your toes twice, and two sit-ups.  Then three times.  All the way up to fifteen.  I just did the math, and that’s 120 all together.  Urg.  But I did it!  We also did pushups, where your partner does a plank, and you do a pushup on one side of her (facing her), then walk your hands over her shoulders, two pushups on the other side, walk over her shoulders again, three pushups, up to ten.  I remember doing this at the bootcamp last summer and sucking at it so hard, so I was really pleased that I did it, if not elegantly (never elegantly), at least properly and finishing.

Then, kicking things!  We practiced countering a Thai kick with a kick to the inner thigh, which was fun even if I apparently missed that I was supposed to the throwing Thai kicks.  We had to keep our hands down to counter the kicks, which was OK because we were out of range of any punches, but it still felt counter-intuitive to have both hands down.  I now have a pretty nasty bruise inside my knee.  Bruise watch alert!  It’s been so long since I had a really satisfying bruise, I am excited.  I also got punched in the nose because I wasn’t paying attention while I was supposed to be picking jabs to the face.  This happens sometimes, but what was weirdly embarrassing about this time was that my nose started running like crazy!  I was actually worried it might be bleeding or something, even though I knew I hadn’t been hit very hard, it was just so runny!  And gross!  Anyway, that’s my completely necessary story about things that might happen if you get hit in the face.  The more you learn~

I went straight from kickboxing to the MLIS year-end party.  (I’m always entertained by getting dressed up fancy at the club, because usually I dash out in my sweaty clothes without even redoing my ponytail.)  Very nice event, but I would’ve killed for some munchies.  I tried to start a ridiculous dance party with Leah, Naomi and Monica, but by the time the real dance party started I’d apparently lost interest.  I have a very small window of dance-party, it would seem.  Anatoliy gave me very good job search advice, because he is the sweetest.  And generally I caroused and chatted with people.  No drinking, though, because I am poor and sometimes I just don’t feel like drinking.  (Often when I’m poor.)

Having a car is going well.  I am offering rides all over the place, because I feel I have been given a lot of rides and I’ve built up ride-karma or something like that.  And in three days I’ll be back to being carless, so there’s that.  But I’ve come up with a new slogan for myself, based on my driving abilities in a new city, being inexperienced.  You see, I’m not a jerk.  I signal when I switch lanes, I shoulder-check, I don’t tailgate.  My problem, you see, is that I’m profoundly stupid.  I just wind up in the wrong lane sometimes, or I don’t know the rules of turning in this intersection.  So I feel I need a bumper sticker that sums me up: “Rarely an asshole, but often an idiot”  And really, couldn’t this apply to so many of us?  It’s the human condition.  Sometimes, yes, we are assholes, but mostly we’re just rock-stupid.  I am onto something here.

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Filed under bootcamp, exercise, great ideas, kickboxing, school, shenanigans, stupid jokes

Tournament Girl!

So, I had my very first tournament today, in grappling.  I totally did not win anything, because I am a silly thing, but I got spirit, yes I do.  Whoo!  I fought twice, and got choked once.  Didn’t get submitted in the first fight, and the lady I was fighting was way more advanced than me, so I’m pretty excited about that.  I had a pretty clear goal going in: Get any points.  And I did, in fact, get any points (in fact, I got 2).  That’s actually not good or anything, but I am pretty happy nonetheless.  Because I attained a goal.  A really low goal.  Yay me!

I was actually really nervous right before the fight.  It was weirdly like exam anxiety.  I was on YouTube in the morning, looking up submissions, like cramming for a test.  “Fuck, fuck, is the Americana pulled upwards or downwards?  Fuck!”

I will put up pictures of me getting my ass kicked (but not actually kicked because we don’t do kicking in grappling) as soon as I get them off other people’s cameras.  That’s another things about grappling!  I kickbox four times a week, and only grapple once!  It’s really hard to compete in my less-dominant mindframe.  Also, while waiting to fight, Michael was showing me pressure points, which only added to the confusion.  Life is difficult with competing martial arts.

Oh yeah, I made a joke about how I abandoned my baby with my submachine gun because they both got too heavy, I should really go back and check on how they both are.  Just to illustrate how every joke I make seems to go back to my fictitious abandoned baby.  It lives at the mall, raised by the Orange Julius people, and now it has a submachine gun and is out for revenge.  A few more jokes like this, and I’ll have a new Tale Of.

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Leap-frog!

Sunday had the first grappling class of 2011.  The warm-up included a rousing game of leap-frog!  Of course, as a warm-up, it was very athletic leap-frog with fully grown ladies and all, but still, so awesome.  I have not played that game since I was ten.  This led to a discussion on the psychology of jumping.  Apparently, as some people get older and stop with the schoolyard games, they totally stop jumping, and then get completely afraid of jumping.  So, my advice to anyone suffering from this, start jumping now!  Build up your jumping immunity!  Start with a hop, next month a skip, and before you know it: a jump!  We’ll meet back here in 2012 and play leap-frog!

Angela and I rolled some more, and awesome things happened that I would tell you about but it wouldn’t make too much sense because it’d all be in fight-ese.  Needless to say, we were both amazing, and I tapped her out again.  And then she said those three little words… “You should compete.”  Dear God, this will only lead to terrifying places, won’t it?

Classes are starting soon.  I got into Reading and Reading Practices!  I get to learn about book clubs!  Also, I have to pick another class to drop, which is like choosing which of my children to abandon at the zoo.  (Answer: make it a race.  My car seats five, and that is a sacred trust.  If you liked being in this family, Timmy, you would’ve run faster.)

So… that last paragraph went somewhere weird.  Let it be known, I have neither children, nor a car.  Anyway, with classes and work restarting, pretty soon this blog will be about things again, rather than me muttering inanities which entertain only myself and, if that last paragraph is any indication, will lead to my well-earned ostracism from class and society.  I should sign off before I cause any more damage.

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Filed under grappling, great ideas, school, stupid jokes, work

New Year!

New Year’s Eve was awesome, of course.  It was Katherine and I vs. wine, and we prevailed!  We drank wine, we drank all the wine.  Ah, but the wine wreaks bitter revenge today.  Katherine figures I should live in Ottawa, because I need her good influence.  I think I should live there because Katherine needs my specific influence.  Not bad influence, just my influence in general.  The whole world needs my influence!  I need to start my own magazine, I think.  Or religion?  That could be a resolution: become cult leader.  (This is why I need Katherine’s influence, incidentally.  She so consistently curbs my cult leader aspirations.)

On the topic of resolutions, I have none.  I’m pretty good at being consistently goddamned fabulous, let’s not risk fucking up perfection.  Katherine and I determined that, in the New Year, we’re both going to be healthier, but that’s not so much a resolution as an undeniable statement of fact.  Late December has been so full of chocolate, wine and ass-sitting, it would be utterly impossible to be less healthy.  Gerald is doing some week-end mini-bootcamps this month, I think I might go for it.  But I can’t think about it too hard right now, the hangover won’t allow it.

You will be not shocked in the least to learn I’m irritatingly peppy while hungover.  I’d like to thank Katherine for not stabbing me in the neck at any point this morning while I insisted on headbopping to 80’s music and chasing her dog, because terrible pain is no reason to sit still and be quiet, that would be just ludicrous.

This morning, in two completely independent conversations, through no maneuvering of my own, I wound up talking about the difference between Jimmy Buffett and Warren Buffett.  I just found that mind-blowing, and I’m making you read it like it’s interesting to people other than me.  Anyway, I swear to Christ, when I was a teenager I found a clothes store online with Hawaiian-print dresses run by Jimmy Buffett, and no-one believes me and it no longer exists.  It’s the phantom Jimmy Buffett Hawaiian dress store!  That haunts my addled brain!  I’m not crazy!

Because we are mired in the cold and terrible winter months, and my legs are weirdly immune to cold, I’ve been going around with bare legs and a shorter skirt.  It’s my campaign to bring some skin into winter.  Reactions on the street are mixed, to say the least.  But I stand by my campaign!  And I will until, like, mid-January, when it gets really cold and I finally have to put on stupid tights.  (The secret is, it’s not a campaign, I just hate tights so much, so very much.  Almost as much as I hate pants.  Damn pants.)

Oh, while Katherine and I were out being brilliant a few days ago, I came up with a totally awesome quote that’s now my blog subtitle: “The best ideas are rarely good.”  I thought that was pretty rad.  I’m going to scrawl it on my forehead in permanent marker before every job interview ever.  (But seriously, potential employers Googling me, I’m just entertaining, don’t worry.  Imagine how much fun I will be around a water cooler.)  I also want to put it on my (still) potential business cards, but I’m pretty sure it violates every rule of business cards ever, and my career services guy may just start hitting me and never stop.  Anyway, with Katherine I plotted out the business cards: my name, this quote, and a picture of my face, squished into a photocopier.  Missing: phone number, email, anything else.

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Filed under exercise, fucking inanity, shenanigans, stupid jokes